BROSSARD, QC. — I’ve always been a Habs fan, but from a distance. I generally watch the games on TV or listen on the radio, having the privilege of seeing going to the Bell Centre only two or three times a season. Despite this fact, my vivid imagination and adoration for the Habs has allowed me to be a passionate fan for the better part of my life. The Habs are the love my life, and any man would be lucky to come in second (a distant second, I might add!). That being said, I’ve always had bad luck when it came to actually meeting the players, both past and present.
Several years ago, in the summer that followed José Théodore’s Hart & Vézina glory season, I attended a jamboree of sorts outside the Bell Centre in what is now the Centennial Plaza. My friend and I split up, to collect autographs from our favourite players. I distinctly remember waiting in a mob of people, hoping Théo would autograph his hockey card that I kept in my wallet. I never got the chance to get within 10 feet of him. When I met up with my friend, she proudly showed off Doug Gilmore’s autograph, while all I had to show was a Craig Rivet autograph.
As an aside, I’d like to add that the only reason I managed to obtain Rivet’s autograph, was because I had given up, and sat on a bench, dejected. Craig didn’t notice me, and almost sat on me, hitting me in the face with his derrière in the process. He mumbled an apology, I asked for his autograph, and that was it. I now refer to this as “The Craig Rivet Incident”.
Flash forward 10 or so years to the Habs Tweetup last weekend at Mclean’s. Not even an hour after I left, who should walk in? Kirk Muller. Of course! It was beginning to seem that I was simply not destined to meet my hometown heroes. Rather than do nothing about it, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
I had always wanted to attend a Habs practice at the Bell Sports Complex in Brossard, but I had never had the chance. It somehow worked out with my schedule this week and I made the trek out to the arena, along with my kid sister. We arrived extremely early, which was fine by me. It meant we could grab a coffee, and get a good seat. It’s unbelievable just how many people manage to make it out to the practices. I thought that a Tuesday morning practice wouldn’t yield much of a turnout, but it’s safe to say that the crowd could have rivalled that at any Phoenix Coyotes game!
As the Habs cleared the ice after the practice, my sister and I made our way out, passing by the secondary rink, where Markov and Spacek were skating. It was inexplicably delicious to see Markov skating, and it made me feel warm all over, particularly in a week where his worth has been debated at nauseam. (I’d like to throw in that, if the rumour is true, I think a one year offer is insulting to the seasoned defenseman, and I really hope that his agent and the organization can work out a deal that appeases both parties. I do not particularly want to imagine the day when Andrei no longer wears the CH, but I digress…)
After the practice, my sister and I joined a group outside of 20 or so to wait for the players. The first few to drive out of the garage sped by, without as much as a wave. I was beginning to think that my curse would follow me, whether I was pre-emptive or not. Then our beloved Captain America drove out in his BMW, and alas! He stopped his car, rolled down the window, and gave each adoring fan an autograph. To say I was elated would be an understatement, and it didn’t bother me when other players sped by. My sister desperately wanted to meet PK Subban, and I was pretty pleased to do so myself. Travis Moen and Mathieu Darche made excellent additions to my now crowded Habs hat of signatures. But there was one player I wanted to meet more than anything, and the anticipation was driving me crazy!
If you don’t know me, you don’t know that I have somewhat of a “thing” for goalies. As soon as I saw the massive black Ford pickup truck, I knew it was Carey Price. As he pulled over and rolled down his window, my heart was racing. I was about to meet someone I’d been idolizing for several years, and I’m amazed that I was able to not only form words, but to express those words aloud! I thanked Carey for signing my hat, and quickly snapped a picture of him. From that moment until now, I haven’t been able to wipe off the grin on my face. It really was one of the best days I’ve had in a long time, and I will cherish my autographed hat for a very, VERY long time.
(Photo by Robyn Flynn)